


In Our Garden of Eden

by ClimbingClassy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Artemis!Pidge, Greek god au, Hades!Keith, Hephaestus!Hunk, M/M, Zeus!Shiro, persephone!Lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-09 11:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7799173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClimbingClassy/pseuds/ClimbingClassy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>based on yaboybokuto's greek god au- It's the tale of Persephone with a Klance twist. Keith, the god of the underworld, falls in for this tale's Persephone: Lance. But death is hardly ever kind to life, so the two opposing forces must learn to compromise if they want to make things work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

            Far away, there was a forest that never knew any season but spring. The land around it changed throughout the years, but this hidden glade remained untouched throughout eternity. The leaves were always green with fresh life; the flowers always in a state of budding and blooming. Even the animals that resided there seemed to retain their youth, some so old they were the last of their kind. It was said not even a single blade of grass amidst that forest had ever been touched by the hand of death, and it was true. Man never ventured into this wood, for only magic could keep it so young, and man fears what it does not understand.

            In the heart of the wildwood there lived a god. He wore a cloak woven from the morning mist. It flowed like water from his arms and down his back, shimmering gold in the springtime sun. Upon his head he wore a woven crown that blossomed and changed in accordance to his whims. Flowers grew where he walked and the leaves turned toward him as if he were the sun. The air itself seemed to radiate life around him, and he glowed with its essence.

            He spent his days hidden at the heart of his woods. He rose with the sun every morning and wandered through his wild garden, admiring the way the dew sparkled amongst the leaves as if stars fell to them every night while he slept. In the afternoon he raced with the deer and swam in the spring with the otters. As he passed through the woods he listened to the birds sing their songs and whistled to them. Often he would lie in the soft grass of his favorite clearing and weave flower crowns with the wood nymphs, listening to their wild tales. In the evenings they would dance with the satyrs as fire flies rose around them. At night the little godling would lie beneath the stars and sleep. And he would dream.

            He did not know how long he’d been having the dream, for the days all seem like one when the seasons never change. The only proof of the passing of time was the way the moon changed above him. The days may come and go, but every night his dream stays the same.

            In his dream there is always a deer. The young stag stands at the end of a clearing, wildflowers woven into its velvety antlers. It always stood there at the forest’s edge as if it were one of the trees itself. It was waiting for him, beckoning him forward. Lance stood. The soft sigh of a breeze brought the night sounds to him: the gentle chirping of crickets, and the hushed whispering of animals as they, too, dreamed.

            Lance walked lightly through the tall grass that brushed comfortingly against his legs. As he approached, the stag disappeared between the trees. Even though it stepped into darkness, Lance could still see it. Its golden hide emitted a soft glow, wavering light dust motes in the light of the setting sun. Though it walked through the underbrush and past low hanging branches, it made no sound and left no hoof prints. Even the leaves didn’t rustle as it strode past. Mesmerized, Lance followed. No matter how quickly he walked he never got any closer to the ethereal beast.

            It took him to the edge of his wood where the trees were less vibrant with mortality and grew closely together. Here Lance paused. The stag did not. It continued into the unfamiliar darkness, and eventually Lance followed not wanting to lose it. The branches here snagged at his shoulders and caught in his crown as if trying to hold him back. Even the sounds there were strange. Owls he did not know hooted in the black branches above him and the sounds of twigs snapping came from the shifting darkness around him, but he was not afraid. The god of life does not fear that which lives.

            Further he followed, with every step the forest around him became unknown, he was a stranger to the way it breathed. Yet the stag did not stop. Gradually, the scenery began to shift, the ground beneath him grew harder. Even the night sounds were lessened here. Lance could no longer hear the chirping of crickets or even the rustling of small creatures in the undergrowth. More than once he stumbled over rocks and roots he did not see. Not even moonlight made it through the canopy. As he walked, a light silvery mist began to silently creep between the trees, and with it came a coldness that Lance was unfamiliar with. He pulled his cloak tightly around him as the thickening fog swirled about his legs. For the first time he felt afraid.

            The stag stopped, it’s ears swiveled in every direction. It turned its crowned head to look at Lance over its shoulder. For a moment, for an eternity, Lance stared into its large dark eyes. And then it was gone. Without a sound it bound off into the woods. Panicked, Lance tried to follow, but the fog thickened around him like cobwebs and pulled at his legs. He tried to call out but his voice was swallowed by the darkness. Without the stag there was no light, and that cold unfamiliar chill crept into his bones. The fog darkened then and shadows became solid.

            Darkness seemed to knit itself together in front of his eyes. A figure appeared, clothed in a darkness deeper than that of any shadow Lance had known, and it filled him with fear. It was not the darkness of earth, but the shade of death itself. A pair of yellow eyes glowed from its deepest depth. Beneath their heavy stare Lance felt fragile, his heart fluttering in his breast like a frightened bird. Petals showered down around his shoulders as his crown began to wilt.

            It was here that Lance usually woke, and he awaited the sweet approach of morning. But tonight he did not wake. He was frozen, his eyes locked to the pair of yellow before him. Neither moved, neither dared to breath. And then the figure spoke.

            “Lance,” it breathed, its voice sounded like life’s last breath. Its sent a spark into the air, and fire erupted. These flames were unnatural; they were red, but they cast no light, and they swallowed everything they touched and turned it to ash within seconds. Lance tried once more to run, but fell. The fire swallowed him, too, searing his skin and melting his bones.

 

            Lance awoke with a start, his heart still hammering in his chest. Wilted graying petals lay crushed where his head had rested. A warm mist curled over him reminding him he was home. The trees of his forest held him safely at their heart, and a family of deer grazed nearby.

            He sat up, resting his forehead against his knees. As he caught his breath the leaves around his crown were starting to unfurl, their greenness returning. When he closed his eyes he could still see two yellow orbs staring back at him. For a moment he thought he could still feel the flicker of flames, but it was only the soft tickling of grass against his skin.

            A blue jay swooped down by his head, pulling at his hair as it passed. It continued to fly circles around his head chattering angrily. “Ow! What was that for? Is something wrong?” Lance asked, rubbing at his scalp. The jay landed on his outstretched hand and proceeded to speak to him, but its words were too fast and its voice wavered with fear so that Lance could not understand it. The frustrated jay fluttered up, beating at his head with its wings, and flew to a nearby branch. Lance followed it with his eyes and noticed the trees all around him were filled with birds twittering nervously. They were all speaking at once and in hushed tones. The only thing Lance could make out was “ _Follow me. You have to see.”_

So he stood, and the birds lead him from tree to tree, all the while chattering amongst themselves. Something had happened in the night while he slept. Now that he was awake he could feel it too, a subtle shift in the forest itself. As Lance wound his way between trees he noticed with a prickling sense of foreboding that he did not need the birds to guide him. He was walking the path he strode every night in his dreams.

            They guided him to the outer edges of his forest, where the sun shone less warmly and the trees seemed less alive. But as Lance walked amongst them they began to grow younger by a hundred years. Centuries old oaks rustled in the wind like young saplings and pines that had been standing for generations felt once more like sprouts shooting up from the earth. Lance sang as he walked, partly to calm the birds and partly to calm himself.

            The animals fell silent as he stepped between two trees that grew closely together. None fluttered any further, and Lance’s voice caught in his throat as he saw why. The soil became blackened an unable to bear even weeds; the underbrush shriveled up and crumbled at the slightest breeze. The trees themselves were leafless, twisted monstrosities. Lance pressed his hands against them. He could not feel any life beating within their bark. All around him there was an unfamiliar coldness, the kind his home had never felt, the same kind he had only witnessed when he slept. It was not a coolness brought by the absence of warmth, but by the absence of life.

            For the first time in all of eternity death had touched Lance’s land.

            He felt tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as sadness filled him. None of the forest’s creatures would come near this place he knew. The sound of a dead twig snapping brought Lance back from his thoughts. He spun around and caught the slightest glimpse of a cloak disappearing behind a tree.

            “Who’s there?” he called. His voice wavered, betraying his fear.

            “I’m sorry.” It was a whisper, hardly more than a breath of air. Lance froze, his heart leaping into his throat. He recognized that voice; he had heard it the night before.

            “Show yourself!” he demanded, pulling himself up to his full height. For a moment there was nothing, and then a form stepped from the shadows as if he had been cut from them. The man was Lance’s height, shrouded in a cloak of darkness with a high collar of fur or feathers. Chains hung around his waist and clanked with every step. His face was deathly pale, onyx eyes shadowed further by a fringe that fell over his brow. “Hello Lance,” he said.

Lance shuddered at the sound of his name from this stranger’s lips. He had seen men before, drawn to his wood by curiosity and superstition; he knew what they were like. And he knew this was no mortal man. No, he was a god.

            Questions flooded his mind, spilling through his thoughts. But Lance could not find his voice to ask them. He had never met the god of the underworld before; he had met very few gods in his existence, yet Lance knew him, knew his name. He stood there patiently, as if he had all the time in the world as he eyed Lance. Neither gaze wavered as the two eternal forces stared at each other. Life and death moved in an endless cycle there, a thousand lifetimes passed in every second. New life began to sprout where Lance stood, only to wither away, only to form again.

            “Keith,” Lance grinded the words between his teeth. The other god tilted his head, studying Lance like some new foreign creature. He took a step forward, and Lance felt the forest cry out. He took a step back, and Keith froze. Like the stag in his dreams, Lance stared at him with such intensity that Keith shrank away. For a moment the god of death was mesmerized, breathless in Lance’s golden glow. Everything about him was splendid, from the bristling thorns and roses blossoming about his head to the shimmering sheer gold that fell over his shoulders like liquid sunlight. He was beautiful, radiant. And then he was gone.

            With hardly a sound Lance turned, sprinting away like a faun through the trees. In a moment he had disappeared from sight, and the world felt a little less alive in his absence. Disappointed, Keith slipped into the shadows once more, melting into them. He could’ve sworn his heart was racing, that he could actually feel its beating beneath his chest. He had never felt more alive, but that feeling too was fading. As he returned to his realm in the underworld a light continuously danced across his mind illuminating the darkness of his thoughts. As he crossed the gates of Hades he thought of roses and a golden bird. When he closed his eyes he could still see him standing there, amidst the budding life of eternal spring, and he knew that this was not the last he would see of him. No, this was not the end, but only the beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

            Weeks passed, days trickling by like sand inside an hour glass. Keith wandered his domain in quiet contemplation. Surely there had to be some way to attract the other god’s attention. Hours of his existence were spent thinking about the other, of his bronze skin draped in gold. He had heard of a god hidden at the heart of forest caught in eternal spring, but he did not expect him to be so breath taking. Never before had the god of death craved life so much.

            Keith paced the halls of his court. Ghostly flames set in brackets on the obsidian pillars sent his shadow skittering on the walls and over the silent skeletal sentries standing between them. The chains around his waist clanked with every step, setting his thoughts to a rhythm. How could he catch Lance’s eye? What could he do? He considered sending the ghost of a deer—or perhaps some exotic bird—to entice Lance, but he doubted such a display would impress him. It would only seem like gloating, flaunting that which he’d taken from Lance’s world. Death was only a hindrance to life. What could he offer that would not offend?

            He stepped into the darkness as if it were a hallway leading off from his throne room; he used it to travel from his realm to the mortal world. Keith moved into the light, his feet crunching over brittle grass as he walked. The place where he had seen Lance once before was still mostly barren, forever scarred by his touch. The tree he stood beneath was a massive oak. It was not the oldest, nor the youngest, but it was the first in this forest to ever die. Keith ran his hands over the bark, blackened as if by fire. Its barren branches reached for the sky and shivered in the breeze. All around its base, among the roots and dead foliage, tiny green sprouts struggled up through the earth. No plant should be able to grow in this soil. Only one thing could bring life back to this place. It was a sign that Lance had tried to repair the damage he’d done.

            That’s when an idea struck him. Keith strode forward. The work Lance had done shriveled beneath his steps. There was an almost physical divide between the mortal wood and Lance’s, one that no man could distinguish. Only the gods of life and death could tell the difference between the divide, and crossing over it seemed like sacrilege to Keith. So he stood at its boundary, wondering where Lance was. He reached out and plucked a leaf from a nearby branch. Its vibrant green turned to a sickly brown and crumbled in his hand, but before it did he could feel Lance’s presence. His essence was in every leaf, every blade of grass here.

            Life drained from the shrubbery as Keith cautiously walked the border of Lance’s wood. He stayed to his side, careful not to cross over the line where mortality ended and eternal spring began. The woods were mesmerizing, a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. It was so much more vibrant than the Underworld, full of light and flowers in every color ever created. More than anything, it was full of life.

            He stretched out his hand, brushing against the leaves as he passed. The plant life began to wilt beneath the light touch of his fingertips. Emerald leaves lost their luster and flowers forfeited their vibrancy. Keith looked past his destruction to that which he could not see, could not touch. He did not linger for long, walking briskly on the forest’s outer edge for fear that should he stay the damage would be irreparable. He did not want to take the life of Lance’s home, only wanted to draw his attention. It was all a part of his plan. He would sense the forest’s wounds. And he would come. 

 

            Lance sat beneath a curtain of willow branches at the water’s edge. They danced and twirled in the breeze, whispering their soft music for him. The longest of the branches dipped into the water and sent ripples across the glasslike surface. Lance leaned back against the tree’s trunk watching a family of sparrows at play, flitting between the leaves. His crown was a woven laurel of ivy and honeysuckle. His eyes followed sparrows’ chase, but his mind was miles away at a blackened tree whose branches scarred the sky and the god who had made it so. 

            Lance had met very few gods, preferring to stay hidden in his home while the others wandered the mortal world. He had never met the god of death, nor could he figure out how he had gotten his attention. The amount of time the darker god spent walking through his thoughts the last few weeks was unsettling. Lance was beginning to notice that whenever he let his mind wander he often thought of Keith, with a mixture of emotion. He was partly afraid—afraid in the way that life always fears death—but there was more to his fear. Past this instinctual aversion, Lance was afraid because a part of him wanted to see Keith again. In truth, he was fascinated with him, the way a child is fascinated by a strange animal. He had never seen death before. In his woods he’d never felt the absence of life.

            A shiver passed through the trees, their song shifted into something more urgent. The sparrows quieted. Something was wrong, Lance could feel it in his bones, in the beating of his own heart. Death was in his home. The realization prickled across his skin, raising the hair on his neck. Keith had come again.

            Lance moved hesitantly through his forest, stopping to greet the wild unicorns and reassure the dryads that nothing was wrong. He was buying time, for he had an eternity. If Keith was still there, what would he say to him? What did he want? He had to want something, otherwise why would he return? More questions than answers found him as he walked through his wood.

            It was twilight by time he reached the edge of his home. Lilac clouds drifted lazily against a coral sky. The fist streaks of violet were just starting to bleed across the heavens as the sun set behind the trees. The forest was quiet here, only the faintest whisper issued from the shriveled brown waste. Keith had been here he knew, but he was here no longer. Only the shadow of his destruction remained.

            It took Lance hours to restore life to the thin stretch of forest. He followed in Keith’s footsteps, taking time to heal them. The plant life was not as injured as he’d expected. Some had died, but most were simply on the brink of death. None had that ashen blackness, like the oak he could not heal. What Lance couldn’t restore, he infused with new life. Withering leaves blew away as young green buds took their place. That night, exhausted, he fell asleep in the shadow of the tree he couldn’t save. 

            It was weeks before he saw any new sign of Keith. The trees and creatures would bring him whispers of destruction, and Lance would follow. But he always came too late. Whenever he arrived there was only death and not its master. At first, he would simply heal the trees. After a time, he would grow the plants larger, with more vitality, simply out of spite. If Keith wanted to flaunt the strength of his powers over Lance’s, then Lance would show him just how strong he could be. He was building a wall of rosebushes and lilies. White wildflowers glistened like stars in the early evening. Clumps of honeysuckles draped over the trees and sweetened the air. Each time Keith appeared the forest was more beautiful than it had been before.

            This went on for months. Keith would come and prowl the outer edges of the woods, and once he had left Lance would heal them. He could never predict when Keith would come, for his visits were stretched far apart. Weeks would pass and by then Lance would forget he was supposed to be looking, but what were weeks to a pair of gods who had eternity? Keith would appear in a different place each time with the hopes of catching a glimpse of the other god, but Lance hardly walked the outer edges of his woods. And by time Lance arrived Keith would have returned to the underworld.

            Sadness and fear gave way to anger in Lance. Was this some sort of game? Was the god of death so bored that he had to torment him, sending him all across his lands to heal what he hurt? Lance took to patrolling the outer boundary of his realm hoping to come across Keith. As he walked a little blue jay friend of his followed. He spoke to it and found its temper as hot as his.

            “Who does he think he is anyway? I mean, I know he’s the god of the underworld but come on, doesn’t he have anything better to do than bother me?” The blue jay twittered in agreement, puffing up its plumage. Lance continued, “Just wait ‘til I get my hands on him.” The bird screeched some unsavory things in response, including something crude about pecking out his eyes and putting them somewhere indecent. “You are a bloodthirsty little bird,” Lance laughed, stroking the jay’s ruffled feathers as it perched on his shoulder.

            The sound of twigs snapping startled him and sent the blue jay flapping away, screeching as it flew in wide circles around him. Lance turned and found himself face to face with Keith. In the daylight he was far less intimidating. He was tall, thin, and carelessly groomed. His hair fell untidily around his head, longer in the back and curling up where it brushed the scruff of his collar. Pale as death, he squinted in the sunlight. Dark sunken circles bordered his eyes.

            “You!” Lance roared, jabbing a finger in his direction, “You think you can just come here killing whatever you want whenever you want! What’s your problem anyways?”

            Lance did not wait for an answer, but continued on now that he was worked into a rage. Keith watched him with curious fascination. It was a cold anger that radiated from the other, not hot as he had thought it would be. As Lance spoke the crown around his head began to bristle with large thorns and blossom with dark crimson flowers. This, too, Keith watched quietly. Lance stepped close enough to jab Keith in the chest, an act no one would have even dared. Had anyone else done it they’d be worse than dead, but Keith said nothing. He noticed that Lance was no longer afraid, no longer trying to run.

            “Well?” Lance demanded, seeming to have ended his anger filled monologue and waiting for Keith’s response.

            “I didn’t touch the flowers,” Keith said. Lance looked stricken, confused. For a moment he wavered under the intensity of Keith’s gaze. “They’re nice.”

            “I—well of course they are. I created them!” Lance said, puffing out his chest proudly. What an odd creature, Keith thought to himself. Arrogance and beauty dripped from him like his golden cloak.

            “The damage wasn’t too bad?” Keith asked.

            “Well, no, but it still took me weeks to bring everything back!” Lance snapped, but his anger was subsiding. Curiosity took its place. “Why was that anyway? Losing your touch?”

            “If I had wanted to, I could’ve leveled your entire forest,” Keith sighed. “But I didn’t want that. I just wanted to talk.”

            “Couldn’t have found an easier way than killing my plants? Couldn’t, I don’t know, send a messenger or something? Maybe a skeleton? A ghost?”

            “My messengers can only go where I can, idiot,” Keith snapped, “Death hasn’t ever touched this place, so it wouldn’t work.”

            “Well, that sounds like a personal problem to me,” Lance huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Keith opened his mouth to retort, but Lance didn’t give him the chance. Instead he turned abruptly. No one had ever walked away from the god of death.

            “Where are you going?” Keith called, stopping at the invisible border as if it were a wall.

            Lance’s heart was beating in the most peculiar way. “I’m going home,” he paused, “If you want to talk, you can come.”

            The lesser godling annoyed Keith to no end. And yet he felt compelled to follow. “But the plants,” Keith reminded him.

            Lance rolled his eyes. “So don’t touch anything!”

            Still, Keith didn’t move. With a theatric sigh Lance walked towards him holding out his hand. Confused, Keith looked from his outstretched hand to his face, then back again. “And what do you want me to do with that?”

            “Just. Take my hand, okay? It should offset your death aura thing and keep you from killing all my stuff,” Lance said.

            “So, you want me to hold your hand?” Keith asked, eyes narrowing. Perhaps it was the sun, but he could’ve sworn a blush crept into Lance’s face.

            “Don’t make this weird! _You’re_ the one that wanted to talk to _me,_ remember? Either take my hand or just go home.”

            Lance was surprised when he felt Keith’s hand slip into his own. His skin was cool to the touch and pale, so unlike his own. He glanced from their hands to Keith’s face. He looked away, uncertainty coloring his cheeks.

            Keith looked at him from the corner of his eyes. “Well, lead the way.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is a little slow. I promise things will start to pick up in the next installment c: Prepare for some sappy conversations. Also, we'll be getting to the underworld soon. Trust me.


	3. Chapter 3

            The forest was alive with music. Birds sang in a pretty, high key as they followed the pair through the woods while the wind sang a soft melody, sighing through the leaves and branches. Underlying all of these things, beating hearts provided bass. Keith listened, quietly awed. All the workings of life were an intricate instrument, and Lance knew how to play. His hands danced across its keys to make it sing. New life flowed from his fingertips, yet at that moment they were intertwined with the pale hand of death.  

            There was a giddiness about him that he could not place. Perhaps it was the essence of life flowing into him from Lance’s touch, perhaps it was more. Whatever it was, Keith felt more weightless than air. If Lance were light, he would be the shadow cast by his glow. Sunlight glimmered gold through a sea of leaves above him, blinding him as he looked up. Birds of every size and color flitted around their heads, and flowers sprouted from the earth like jewels to decorate its surface. But of all these things, nothing was as beautiful as the godling in front of him. Gold flowed from his shoulders sheer as silk and coral colored blossoms grew about his crown. Here in his own realm, Lance looked more splendid than any soul he’d ever seen. When he glanced over his shoulder and the sun caught his eyes and made them glisten like sea glass, that was the moment Keith felt the most mortal. Something fluttered within his chest, and it took him a moment to realize it was his own heart beating.

            “So you wanted to talk?” Lance asked, leading Keith by the hand between two trees. Keith stepped carefully, trying not to touch anything for fear of ruining it.

            “This place. It’s very nice,” he said lamely. His tongue felt thick in his mouth and he was at a loss for words.

            Lance regarded him coolly. How out of place Keith looked amidst his woods, donned in black with a high color of red plumage about his shoulders. He was like a bird of prey: fearsome from afar, but gangly and awkward up close. Lance had thought the god of death would be more intimidating, someone to be feared. But he wasn’t afraid.

            “Did you do all of this?” Keith waved his free hand through the air, gesturing to the forest around them.

            “Came here just to admire my handy work, huh?” Lance boasted. He strutted like a peacock displaying its feathers.

            Keith was on the verge of a quick witted retort when Lance pulled them both into blinding light. He stumbled in the brightness, shielding his eyes from the sun. Lance had brought them to an open field; tall grass rippled like waves before them. Off in the distance a young fox could be seen skipping through the sea of green, breaking its surface in a flash of orange before disappearing once more. Keith took his hand from Lance’s grasp to cover his face. His eyes were watering.

            “You okay?” Lance asked. Keith was at a loss for words. He had never been in a place so open, so bright. A cerulean sky stretched endlessly above them where birds flew so high they were merely tiny specks in the distance. He could feel the emptiness around them, with no walls to close them in and an open sky above their heads. He swayed for a moment as vertigo overcame him, feeling as if he would fall upwards into its cloudless abyss. When he removed his hands, he stared up into the sky, lost in its vastness.  

            Lance felt warmth rise up his neck and color his face. In the sunlight he could see Keith’s eyes weren’t black at all, but of the deepest amethyst. They glittered like jewels beneath dark lashes set into a pale porcelain face. His hair shone and shook in the slight breeze, creating a dark halo about his head. He was beautiful. 

            “There’s so much space…” Keith murmured to himself. Then, noticing Lance’s stare, he turned his eyes away, guarding his expression once more.

            “You don’t get out much, do you?” Lance took a seat beneath the shade of a beech tree. Sunlight dappled his skin. He patted the ground next to him, looking up at Keith.

            “Not really, no. I’m very busy,” Keith said as he sat beside Lance, his dark cloak pooling around him.

            “But you have time to come bother me?” There was a smile in Lance’s voice, a playful lilt to his words. Keith regarded him for a moment, violet eyes boring into his own. Then the corners of his mouth curled. His smiles were slow, few, but genuine.  

            They talked for hours until they had nothing left to say, and then fell into comfortable silence, each stealing quick glances at the other when they thought it’d go unnoticed. The sun slipped by overhead and the early evening light turned the grass to a sea of gold. Lance plucked a wild flower from the grass nearby; its petals were soft as silk against his skin. He held it out for Keith to take, but as his fingers brushed its stem the flower paled and began to droop. Quickly he took his hand away. Safe once more with Lance, the flower unfurled as life returned to it. Keith turned away, sinking into his cloak as he mumbled an apology.

            “Does that always happen?” Lance asked, resting his head atop his knees as he twirled the flower between his fingers.

            “Yea,” Keith sighed, “Unless it’s already dead.”

            “Everything you touch dies. What a bummer.” Lance looked out across the field, beyond the line of trees, to the springs and rivers and secret glens. In his mind he walked these places; he looked at his home and tried to picture what it would be like to never be able to touch any of it. Sadness filled him, sunk into his skin and weighed him down like a stone. What torture it would be if everything wilted just from being in his presence.

            Silence elapsed them once more, each lost to their own thoughts. Lance was surprised how comfortable he felt sitting next to Keith, but he could tell the other was on edge. His posture was stiff and his eyes were somewhere far away. He was scared that he would hurt the things around him. Lance wanted to help, wanted to give him something that wouldn’t perish at his touch. But life was only so strong against death.

            He brooded in silence. The sky was streaked with red as the sun dipped behind the trees. A little dove flew up from the grass, and they both watched it rise. As it flew higher the sun caught its pale wings and it flickered like flame. He didn’t even notice Keith had stood until his shadow fell over him.

            “I should get going,” he said. His face was wreathed in shadows. Even in the dying light Lance shone.

            “Oh. Okay,” Lance stood, brushing grass from his clothes. Keith was already turning to leave. “Next time you come around, I’ll have something for you.”

            Keith paused; confusion clouded his face. “Next time?”

            “Well, yea. You’re coming back, right?”

            Keith didn’t move. He could’ve been made from stone, Lance thought. An eternity passed before he spoke. “Sure.”

            “Great. Give me some time though. A month maybe?” Lance beamed.

            “For what?”

            “It’s a surprise,” he winked, an idea already turning through his head. The god of life was full of surprises it seemed. With a final awkward goodbye, Keith disappeared into the darkness. Almost instantly the evening brightened in his absence.

            Lance wasted no time. He called on one of his birds, stroking its head as it lighted on his arm. “I need you to find Pidge for me, okay? Tell them I need a favor…”

With a chirp of understanding the creature took wing.

 

            It was late into the night when they arrived. Lance was lying on his back in the open admiring the stars. The moon was just a sliver of light in an oil slick sky. Mist began to wend its way through the trees silver as starlight, reaching out with gossamer strands. Like clouds it covered the ground until Lance couldn’t see further than a few feet in any direction. The stars burned brighter for a moment and the moon seemed to blink, and then the mist receded. As it crept back through the trees two figures emerged; a dog bounded out from the darkness like a shooting star.

            “Rover!” Lance was bowled to the round beneath a wiggling mass of silver fur. The hound covered him with spittle as it licked at his face and hands, two strong paws on his chest.

            A short wiry youth draped in a cloak of stars and silver mist approached. “Hey Lance,” Pidge smirked.

            “Wow that was fast. You don’t mess around,” Lance said as a tall barrel chested boy pulled him to his feet, wrapping him an embrace as strong as steel.

            “Oh, well I don’t have what you wanted. Not yet anyways, they’re hard to find.” Pidge scratched the back of their head. “Matt said he’d help. So once I find one I’ll let you know.”

            “Hunk, you’re kind of breaking my ribs,” Lance wheezed. The taller god set Lance down, a mischievous smirk on his face. “So, then what’re you guys doing here?”

            “A little birdy told us you were hanging out with Keith.” A smug look passed between Hunk and Pidge. Lance could feel color rising in his face.

            “Yea, well, so?” he puffed up defensively.

            “Didn’t think he was your type. What with all the death and everything,” Pidge shrugged.

            “I don’t have a type. And anyways it’s not like that!” He stammered, hoping his face didn’t look as warm as it felt. “I don’t like Keith.”

            “Oh, sure. We believe you,” Hunk nodded gravely. “So, that thing you asked Pidge for. Is it for you? Cause we kinda thought it was for Keith.”

            The smug look on their faces was enough to annoy him. “Yea. It’s for me,” he lied.

            “That’s not what your little bird told me,” Pidge teased.

            Lance pulled himself up to his full height, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yea. Well. Sometimes he mishears things.”

            “Should’ve asked for lovebirds,” Pidge sighed. “Those are a lot easier to find.”

            “Yea, there’s one standing right here in front of us.” Hunk put a hand on Lance’s shoulder, giving him a shake that rattled his bones.

            “I don’t like Keith!” Lance huffed.

            “Really?” Pidge asked playfully.

            “Are those roses sprouting from your crown? And pink roses at that!” Hunk leaned closer to touch one of the flowers blooming about his head. Lance took two steps back, face burning.

            “Did you two just come here to tease me, or is there an actual reason you’re here wasting my time?” he snapped.

            The two other gods stopped and exchanged a glance. “Yea. Pretty much.” Their faces broke into grins that mirrored the crescent moon.

           

            It was weeks before Lance heard from Pidge again. The moon was nearly full, casting his forest in silver and shadow by night. He was restless as of late, the more he tried not to think of Keith the more the other god was on his thoughts. He wondered when he’d come back, _if_ he’d come back. He wondered how he’d react to his gift, whether or not he’d like it. More than anything, he wondered why he wondered so much. Every thought of the darker god sent warmth to his cheeks and he was starting to notice an abundance of flowers about. He didn’t really _like_ Keith, right? Of course not. That would be ridiculous.

Then again, the flowers never lied.

            As Lance wound through the forest that night, arguing against his own thoughts, a star fell from the sky. He watched its descent.

            The shining light landed near him in an open space between the trees. It shivered there for a moment, its frosty light chased away shadows and turned trees into ghosts. After a moment the fallen star took the shape of a small youth. Another light fell less gracefully from the heavens and took the shape of a hound beside its master.

            “I got what you wanted,” Pidge grinned, reaching into their satchel. Lance moved closer to get a better look. He was curious; he’d never seen one of these before. Out of the bag Pidge pulled what seemed to be a large stone. At first glance it looked like it could be an ostrich egg, if an ostrich egg were glossy black like polished obsidian. As Lance took it into his own hands he noticed rippling crimson bands that swirled across its inky surface. Surprisingly for its size, it was incredibly light.

            “Woah,” he breathed. He could see the reflection of the sky on its shell. Stars twinkled up at him as he cradled it to his chest. “Pidge, I can’t thank you enough.”

            “It was nothing,” they shrugged. “Besides, I like a challenge.”

            “Where did you find it?” Lance asked.

            “At the heart of a volcano. They like to incubate their eggs under lava. It keeps them super hot, and I think the intense heat helps them grow. Getting into a volcano is tough enough on its own, and Rover almost fell in. But Matt and Hunk were able to help in the end. Anyways, it should be ready to hatch soon.”

            “Perfect,” Lance grinned, his own happiness reflected back to him. The black stone in his hands pulsed with the warmth of new life. He couldn’t wait to see Keith’s face when its surface broke.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's in the egg??? Guess you'll all just have to wait until the next chapter c:
> 
> Speaking of, for those wondering about updates, you can expect around two chapters a week. I try to aim for wednesday and saturday. Some fluctuations may occur. 
> 
> Also feel free to follow me on tumblr. My url is legendarylions if anyone was wondering.


	4. Chapter 4

            The look of relief on Lance’s face when he arrived was something Keith wasn’t used to.

            “Man, am I glad you showed up when you did,” Lance called over his shoulder as he led Keith through the woods once more. “For a minute there I thought you weren’t going to make it in time.”

            “In time for what?” he asked. Lance was brimming with excitement; it showed in his restless movements and overflowed from his smiles.

            “You’ll see. We’re almost there now.” The sound of a stream trickled through the air as they passed between trees. Sunlight poured from the sky, spilling over the leaves to pool upon the ground. When Lance finally stopped, they were at a break in the forest. The ground sloped down away from them to form the bank of a small river. It rattled over large stones and shimmered like broken crystal in the sunlight. On its pebbled bank a campfire was already ablaze. A naiad tended to it from the water’s edge, half of her body still submerged. She poked at the logs with a long stick, careful to stay as far away from the flame as she could. When she saw Lance and Keith emerge from the woods she slipped soundlessly beneath the surface and was gone.

            Keith could see something settled between the logs. “What is that?” he asked. It looked like a large stone, it’s oily black surface shimmered in the heat. The scarlet bands that wrapped it seemed to brighten and dull from one moment to the next, pulsating like a beating heart.

            Lance rolled his eyes. “What’s it look like?”

            “Like an egg?” Keith guessed.

            “Wow, you’re smarter than I gave you credit for,” Lance teased, lightly punching Keith’s shoulder.

            “What’s going to hatch from it?” he asked.

            “If I told you, I’d be ruining the surprise,” said Lance. He searched Keith’s face for any kind of reaction, some semblance of the excitement he felt. But he found none. Keith watched the fire with a guarded look, a shadow of something Lance couldn’t place flickering over his face. Fire danced in his eyes, and they swallowed its light like the darkest of nights.

            “Lance,” he sighed, combing a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m not sure this was the best idea. What if I…” he let his words trail away unspoken, but no less said.

            “Don’t worry, you won’t.” Lance gave him a reassuring smile. In a fleeting moment of bravery, he let his hands trail over Keith’s arm, fingertips fluttering over his hand before he pulled away. Keith’s eyes flickered from the fire to his arm, to Lance’s face. Though they sat close to the flames, it was a different sort of heat that warmed him.

            “How long until it hatches?” Keith asked, clearing his throat. He fought the urge to smile. The ghost of a touch still lingered against his skin. Had he been faster—braver—he could have caught Lance’s hand in his own and held it there.

            “I…I’m not sure,” Lance scratched the back of his head. “Soon. I can feel it.”

            Keith watched the other from the corner of his eyes, admiring the way the fire’s light danced across skin, shimmered like the sun in his eyes. His gaze moved from the large pale blossoms adorning his crown, falling to the line of his jaw. “Thank you.”

            Lance was taken aback by the sudden kindness. “I-It was no big deal. Really! I just had one of these lying around and thought I might as well give it to you, you know?” he stammered, hoping the fire light hid the flush of his face.

            Though he saw clean through Lance’s act, Keith said nothing of it. “Yea, I know.” The pale flowers of Lance’s crown turned a blushing pink; that was telling enough. A smile pulled at his lips.

 

            They rested in the grass not too far from the rivers bank for most of the day, basking in the sun while keeping an eye on the egg. Some of Lance’s forest friends—satyrs and wood nymphs—brought them food. Lance asked them to stay, but they were far too fearful of Keith, and left with skittish goodbyes, stumbling in their haste.

            “Don’t mind them, they’re just shy,” Lance explained, offering Keith a platter of fruit.

            “I have that effect on people,” he smirked, plucking a pomegranate from the plate. His smile did not reach his eyes.

            “Yea, it’s probably the way you dress,” Lance said between bites. “Like, if you didn’t _look_ so menacing maybe people would actually invite you places, ya know?” He waved half an orange through the air as he spoke.

            “I rule the Underworld,” Keith declared. The last rays of light were fading from the sky as the first stars began to blink into sight.

            “That doesn’t mean you have to be so doom and gloom though. Lighten up a little.”

            “The Underworld is a dark place,” said Keith, furrowing his brow. The springtime god was all sunshine and smiles, with moods as swift and light as the breeze. He was so carefree, and therefore careless. Keith envied him his innocence. He had never seen the hardships of war, never taken a child from its mother, a father from his family. He had never seen the earth cracked with shallow graves, rivers of blood staining the ground, and skies choked with ash from funeral pyres. Lance had never witnessed any of these, never known blood except that which comes with the birth of new life. His soul was white as snow, untarnished by the hardships and strife of mortal life.

            “You could brighten it,” Lance’s said as he watched the cinders rise into the blackening sky. Keith said nothing. He had turned to stone once more. Lance watched him from the corner of his eyes. Even though night had fallen, the darkness that pooled around him was made of thicker stuff, like it was dyed darker by his thoughts.

            “You’d be better at that.” The words were out of Keith’s mouth before he could stop them. For the first time in what felt like eternity, his cheeks flushed with heat.

            “You could take me there.” Lance cocked his head to the side, looking at Keith with wide bright eyes.

            He felt weak beneath those eyes, like a candle guttering in the dark. Never had anyone had such power over him. “No,” Keith said. His tongue was sharp, his decision final.

            A shadow of irritation flickered over Lance’s face. “You’re always coming here. So why can’t I go there?”

            When Keith finally spoke his eyes caught Lance’s, holding his gaze captive. “You wouldn’t like it. It’s not like this place.” His eyes were cold, like glassy black orbs in his pale face, but there was no anger or annoyance in them. There was only deep sadness in their depths.

            Wisely, Lance let the subject drop. He brooded silently next to Keith, the only sound between them the occasional pop of the logs as they burned lower. A creature of moods, it wasn’t long before his sullenness lifted like the morning mist. He turned to Keith and found him lost in the stars.

            “What does the sky look like from down there? In the Underworld,” Lance asked.

            Slowly the darkness returned to Keith’s eyes, filling them until they were as old and unknowable as the night sky; indescribable in the way they captured starlight, holding it there in their depths as if the universe were merely a reflection. “There is no sky there,” he said at last.

            “So, you can’t even see the stars?” Lance’s voice was a whisper lost to the wind.

            “It’s getting late. I should probably leave soon,” Keith said, brushing grass from his cloak as he stood. Brown and brittle grass circled where he’d sat.

            “What?” But it hasn’t hatched yet!” Lance tugged at the corner of Keith’s cloak. “It should happen any moment now, I can feel it. Can’t you stay ‘til then?”

            “I…really shouldn’t be away from the Underworld this long.” Keith cast a worried glance over his shoulder as if he could see his realm beckoning him home between the trees.

            “It’s just one night,” Lance pleaded. His hand still grasped the edge of Keith’s cloak, but it wasn’t that that held him there, it was the way he looked at him. Piercing blue eyes peered up at him through long lashes. His voice, quiet and softer than Keith expected, struck the final blow. “Stay,” he whispered. “Please.”

            So he did.

           

            Time seemed to stand still as they stretched out beneath the sky, pillows of soft grass beneath their heads. It wasn’t long before Lance fell asleep. Keith, however, was unused to the vastness of the night, and every so often as he stared up into its inky abyss his heart would race. He felt like he could fall into it, be swallowed by it. Then Lance would sigh or shift in his sleep, and it would ground him to earth once more.

            Keith watched him while he slept. Even in the darkness of night there was a faint gold shimmer to Lance’s skin. He looked like a dream, nestled in the tall grass beside him. He only had to move his arm a little and his hand would brush Lance’s. He spent minutes, perhaps years contemplating it; move just enough to brush his fingertips against the other’s. Instead he lay still, holding his breath.

            Lance’s lips moved, and Keith bit back an amused smirk as he mumbled in his sleep. A petal fell from his crown onto his cheek as he slept, pearly white on his bronze skin. Without thinking Keith brushed it away with his thumb. Lance’s skin was warm to the touch. Keith hesitated, letting his hand linger feather light against the other’s face. He froze in fear as Lance shifted, but he did not wake. Instead, he pressed into Keith’s touch, a smile playing at his lips.  When Keith withdrew his hand he could still feel the ghost of Lance’s warmth against his palm. He held his hands close to his heart, where he could feel it drumming within his chest as he waited for the sun to rise and break the spell they were under.

            How odd that beings of eternity fell in love so fast. One would think that immortality would bring with it a dulling of the emotions, but instead the opposite was true. If a mortal’s weakness was death, then a god’s weakness was love. But the god of death did not _love,_ right? He was beyond such feelings, for they only interfered with his realm and his ruling. Or so he had thought. Now, as he lay next to Lance beneath a lightening sky, watching the rise and fall of his chest as he slept, his heart said differently.  

            The sky shifted hue, from black to blue to lilac, as the world brightened around them. Lance woke as the last of the stars burned out. He seemed pleasantly surprised to find Keith still lying beside him. “Good morning,” he yawned. “Did you sleep okay?”

            “I slept fine,” Keith lied. He did not sleep.

            As the first rays of sunlight touched the tops of the trees, a sound like splitting logs within a fire filled the air. Keith had forgotten about the egg. Through the night the fire had dwindled down, and was now nothing more than a pile of low burning cinders. At its center the egg began to shudder, the crimson bands on its side glowing brightly.

            “It’s time!” Lance gasped as he pulled Keith to his feet.

            A fissure had formed in its smooth black surface. It widened and fractured with every movement as the creature inside it stirred. Lance fell to his knees, excitedly beckoning Keith closer. His excitement was contagious, and Keith found himself reluctantly moving forward. Once he was within reach Lance grabbed his hand and pulled him down next to him.

            “Hey!” Keith snapped. He was quickly shushed by Lance as the shell finally split falling apart on itself.

            “Isn’t he beautiful?” Lance all but squealed. Keith was speechless.

            “It’s definitely…something,” he managed. A small ashen blob of a creature came from the egg. Two flaming eyes too large for its leathery face stared up at him. Stubby featherless wings trembled at its sides as it chirped, clicking together its large hooked beak.

            “Well? Pick it up!” Lance grinned. Fear clouded the wonder in Keith’s eyes. Before he could resist, Lance had taken his hands and forced him to hold the newly hatched bird.

            Keith held his breath, too scared to even breath near life so new, so fragile. It looked up at him from his cupped hands, its head wobbling on its neck as it stared. Awestruck, Keith tentatively brushed it slick body with the pad of his thumb, smoothing out down that was just starting to dry. It looked helplessly at him with those bright, unwavering eyes as if he were the only other thing to exist in this world. Keith could feel its tiny heart beating beneath its chest.

            “It’s…amazing,” he smiled, glancing up at Lance. He felt laughter bubbling inside him as he cradled the small creature to his chest. Suddenly, it closed its eyes, shuddering violently. Before Keith could give the poor thing to Lance it collapsed in on itself, feathers turning to ash in his hands. With a final keening cry it was gone. “Lance. I-I’m so sorry.” He did not look up at the other god, his eyes fixed to the remains still cupped in his hands. He had killed it, just as he killed everything he touched. Lance had gone through the trouble of getting him such a precious gift, and he had murdered it within moments of it being born. “I didn’t mean to…It was an accident, I swear.”

            A choked sound came from Lance, and Keith prayed he wasn’t crying. He didn’t have the words to say how sorry he was, how terrible he felt. When he finally risked looking up, he saw tears glistening in the corners of Lance’s eyes, though not from grief.

            “You should see the look on your face!” Lance broke into a burst of laughter, clutching at his sides as he threatened to topple over. “It’s supposed to do that. Look,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye.

            Was Lance delusional? Confused, Keith looked to the pile of ash in his hands, and something stirred there. The ash shifted, pouring over itself until the top of a dusty grey head appeared. Two flame colored eyes opened and peered up at him as a large hooked beak took shape. Before his eyes the baby bird had reformed, it’s fluffy down feathers the color of cinders as it flapped its tiny wings. Keith was at a loss for words.

            “It’s a phoenix!” Lance cheered, scratching it beneath its beak. “It’s reborn every time it dies. So no matter how many times you kill it, it’ll always come back.”

            “You…you got me a phoenix?” Keith’s voice trembled as he spoke.

            “I sure did. Pretty great, right?” Lance boasted.

            “Yea it’s…Thank you Lance,” Keith stammered. Feelings he’d never felt before swelled inside him as he cradled the newborn phoenix to his chest.

            Lance had never seen Keith be so gentle, cooing softly to the bird as it nuzzled into his chest. He had the urge to reach out and stroke his hair or graze his arm. Embarrassed by the thought, he did neither. “Now you’ll have someone to keep you company.”

            “But I have you.” The grin slipped from his face as his shock was reflected in Lance’s wide eyes. “Come back with me,” he blurted before the other could react.

            Just hours before Lance had been eager to accompany him, now his face was clouded with doubt. “I-I don’t know,” he looked away. “What will happen to my forest?”

            “Do you trust me?” Keith asked. The air between them was filled with their breathing, with their unspoken thoughts. Keith asked again, “Do you trust me?”

            Lance chewed his bottom lip, wringing his hands. Keith waited, counting the seconds between each breath. Lance had not made up his mind, but Keith’s was already decided.

            “If you don’t want to that’s fi—“

            “No, it’s okay. I trust you,” Lance interrupted. He took hold of Keith’s outstretched hand, gripping it tightly.

            Keith’s eyes flickered over him; he could feel his pulse fluttering beneath his skin. He pulled Lance closer until they were merely inches apart. They were nearly the same height but Keith’s massive cloak made him seem much larger, a looming shadow threatening to swallow them both. He stole every breath that passed through his lips, but Lance didn’t falter, didn’t even blink. He merely waited.

            A shiver ran down Lance’s spine as Keith leaned forward, his lips brushing Lance’s ear as he spoke. “Then close your eyes.”         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness of this chapter, but this one is much longer than the others so far ^^;

**Author's Note:**

> Wow I'm sorry I'm so bad at summaries. Forgive me.  
> Anyways! I fell in love with yaboybokuto's (check out their tumblr for more greek god au, voltron, and just all kinds of awesome things) sketches of what these two would look like and I wanted to try my hand at writing their story! I'm not sure yet how long this story will be, but expect multiple chapters c:


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